San Antonio daily light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1886-1907, 1887-05-20

my mind was very busy.
What woEld be the end of this jour
neyp Should her brother be already
deadY Friendless, moneyless, homeless,
alonel
When we stopped once she half-roused;
she looked cOniidingly up in my face as
bent down to her.
~ am afraid / weary YOU" she said
81 can't help it; Pm so tired"
She was half-stupelied with fatigue.
Almost before she had finished speak
ing, her head dropped on my shoulder
again; | pressed her closer to me for
answer-that was all.
Your wife, poor young thing, seems
quite worn out" said kindly, half
Quakerish looking lady, sitting opposite.
l had noticed how pleasantly and
compassionately she glanced at Ruth.
answered simply, "She is worn out;
she has travelled from London almost
without stopping. She has brother
dying in Rome"
poor, poor young thing! But she is
happier than many; she will meet ser
row with one by her who loves her with
more than the love of brother"
My conscience was reused; none of
our other fellow-trayelers could hear
10. piVhy tOiu hsi mum otolg, anu
finished by asking, Are you going to
stay in Romep"
"Yes, friend; and shall be glad to be
Of service to the young lady"
You may perhaps be of the greatest
service"
gave her my card and she gave me
hers, pencilling her address in Rome.
This is your brothers address," l
asked Ruth as we approached Rome,
reading card she gave me.
"Yes; you are surprised Whyp"
"This is such miserable quarter"
20, he is very poor, and always saw
ing--saying to be able soon to give me
a home," she said. "Ie says / shall
never be happy as a governess, nor he
TO know me one"
Ruth" said, taking her hand, as
we drove through the streets; ''let me
call you so. i am not stranger now:
am brother to you, wishing to be to
you more than any brother. But am
not going to speak of that now. Are
you prepared for great shOckl | know
Chat brave mind well. | mean If your
brother should be very ill-dying-
deadp"
She shuddered.
"You have said the word: could not.
/ have been thinking, day after day,
that he is dead; that is why"
why no one met you~
Eyes"
~ fear, poor child, you may be right.
You will try to bear up brayely, and
you will let me he a brother to you
till"
Now our cab stopped.
This street is enough to have killed
him." she sad Surely it is not here?"
We had stopped in one of the narrow,
filthy-as matter of course-foul-
smelling streets, of which there are
plenty in Rome.
st is here" | said, as the cabman
opened the door.
I gave the word What" and lifted
her out. Up the dark. chill, dirty stair
up and up. At last we reached door
on which the poor fellows card was
nailed. She seemed to gather courage
now. She led the way through a small,
dark ante-room, in which | paused.
listened.
1 heard a smothered exclamation
from her; from him cry so shrill as to
be almost scream.
'Ruthl'
walked to the head of the staircase,
and waited there perhaps half an hour.
Then she came to me-came close up to
me, and laid her hand upon my arm.
The expression of the piteOus eyes lift
ed to mine told me there was no hope.
With caressing word, drew her to
me. She leaned her forehead against
my arm moment; then, Frank wants
to see you; Frank wants to thank YOU"
she said, in scarcely audible voice.
followed her into the room.
The full light of square window,
from which one could see the Tiber, the
Castle of st. Angelo, and the line of
Mont Janiculus, was streaming on low
couch where my poor young schoolfel-
low lay.
saw directly that life with him was
question of no more than days, per-
hapS only hours. Yet what beautiful
bright face it was still! What light
streamed from those radiant eyes,
as he, without rising-he was past that
stretched both hands toward me.
Ruth was crouching by him; one hand
soon clutched her again, the other
grasped mine as sat down by him.
In this strange world how often are
simple deeds, that cost nothing to the
poor, most richly rewarded! What had
" ndJ lldu L
And how they thanked and blessed mel
he with his difiicultly-spOken, faint
words; she with her blessed eyes con-
planned the case.
He had rallied after the first telegram,
and had thought it needless that Ruth
should come. He had not calculated on
the possibility of her starting as i'm
mediately as she had done, and the
second message, which bid her not
come, had not reached her.
A few days after-twO days since now
he had broken a bloOd-vessel, and had
been pronounced beyond hope.
IF only had known of this sooner''
| thought, as l looked at the miserable
room and thought of my idle hundreds
and thousands.
When, by-and-by-Ruth for brief
while absent-a woman living in the
rooms below, who had been very kind
to Frank, had taken her away to give
her some refreshment, | stammeringly
expressed something of my regret, he
answered:
1T is better as it is, for am we'll
content"
SIS your sweet sister free?" | asked
free from any en- ,agement-free-heart-
ed?n
spoke low and hast ly, and felt in all
my being how much hung upon his an
swer.
my little Ruth? o, yes, as far as l
can know. And she has never had any
secrets from me-"
~ love her." responded. "If she
can love me, will do what a man can
do to make a woman happy as wife,"
He did not Immediately answer. He
lay with closed eyes, but | felt the